


Let My Tranquility Be Broken

by Garnetscale (TheCarnalWriter)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bullying, Child Abuse, Drunkenness, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Male Protagonist, Modern Fantasy, Mother-Son Relationship, Original Character(s), Slurs, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarnalWriter/pseuds/Garnetscale
Summary: Shizuka was a teen who wished he could live peacefully but his life has said otherwise. He took abuse for his mother and is trapped within himself, his story is told for those curious.





	Let My Tranquility Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I am happy to present the backstory of a character of a universe I am working on. This is Shizuka Takagi, a character that I have had for a long time. He is finally getting a revamp and a dedicated work thanks to my inspiration.

His mom never asked how he felt about a man who would hit him with no hesitation. A man who would dig blunt nails into the back of his neck and drag him across the house, hitting him and leaving bruises dark like watered down ink. Scars that left his skin marred with abuse, the color disgusted his step-father to begin with, he barely held a breath of love in his soul. That love could never be given to someone like him anyway.

His mother would scream but never stand up, he took it for her. He needed a step-father, a man who could feed them and keep a roof over their heads, even amidst the ghostly hours where his breath was heavy with booze and deep seated depression that had succumbed deep below, made by a soul sucking society. 

There was no question to be asked when it came to why his headphones were always placed around his fingerprint painted throat. It was the only place he could keep his mind at ease, letting the passion of others be recited to him. A harmony of emotion, playing to him from the wonderful confines of the pads that trapped his ears. 

He couldn't forget what else his step-father hated about him. Hair like burned coals messily held in a icy blue beanie, wispy silk gathered around his shoulders. He has protected those locks since he grew them out, even through the claims that man made. Calling him a faggot, a disgrace as a man, just for growing out his hair. It didn't help that he was so slim built, drunken slurs from him calling him a twinkie or a homo. 

There were times where he had felt ashamed. He had tried to be more masculine, tried so hard to chase women, showed bravado to find some ounce of acceptance. Only to be thrown in the same uncaring aspect of his life where hands find themselves twisted dangerously against his flesh. There was no changing for someone who was already set in stone, unbending to the greatest of typhoons.

It didn't help he was right...

He knew his mother couldn't possibly love a man like that either. She was a sweet woman, submissive but caring. She would fix him up when the dickhead wasn't watching, there was still deep love for the child she had given her life for. She says to hang in there frequently, it was her catchphrase that she would say as her fingers intertwined with his. The tones were so much different, a soft bronze versus his warm earthy skin with hints of rosy tones there too. 

She always said his real father was a gorgeous man beyond comparison, never around his step-father though, his ego was so fragile. She let it slip that he didn't disappoint, she even said that her features did nothing to change that. Holding his face, she would compliment his gentle eyes when he was younger, the rare gaze of sharp blue with his almond shape. Courtesy of his beautiful mother, she named him Shizuka after all, a tranquility, a calm in the storm. 

He wished people would leave him to his namesake, school was one pain after another. It didn't help the Japanese school system was so strict, he was a delinquent for coming late and going against the uniform policy... Even when the previous hours were spent nursing wounds and finding clothes to hide the abuse. He tried to fight the rumors that crawled into his consciousness, trying to keep the teasing words and the devilish tones from breaking his will.

He knew he would eventually break, he had enough of letting sleeping dogs lie and he knew he would swing his fist into the face of the smirking bastard. He teased his fingertip into his turtleneck and traced the agonizing outline of the bruise placed upon the top of his spine. He knew such a touch was invading his space, he knew it was meant to dig into his stern persona. Yet he was gentle and smooth with his finger, and that only outraged him more, playing with the rumor that he was a "fairy" in delinquent clothing. 

He gave the fucker a bloody nose and the breaking point was among his household when he was suspended, forcing him to face the wrath of his step-father. That was the angriest he had been in years but Shizuka did not back down. He had already caused havoc, what did it mean to stand up for himself again? 

When hands met his shoulder, tore at his headphones with the intent to destroy, he tried to push back and protect himself. Fists met his flesh but there was a reckless abandon in his mind, he was able to pull back and sock the man straight across the jaw. His step-father went down quick, catching himself on the edge of the table. Coughing and cursing was all he heard over the adrenaline rushing through his system, his heart pumping in his ears. 

He didn't expect a gun to be pulled on him, not even with the violence his father had displayed before. A shriek of ultimate fear rung out and suddenly there was a hole in his torso, pain blooming earnestly as dark blood poured from the wound. It soaked the pure white fabric of his turtleneck, leaving an ugly reminder on something so clean, and his knees hit the floor, hand desperately clutching at the throbbing fire in his body. The damp blood soaked through so easy, fingers so tainted with the fluid.

His mother's hands on his shoulders couldn't reach his consciousness, her panicked babbling landing on ringing ears. For a moment, there was nothing. He couldn't see the broken surrender on his step-father's face, the screams of fearful fury that screeched forth from his mother, he could only see the blood pooling on the carpet. Something wet is pouring from his lips, clogging in his throat. 

...But even through the blurriness of his sight, the shock that set in his brain, he saw something bright. Something strange. His blood wasn't dark anymore, something viscous was dripping from his wound. He pulled his hand away, red mixing with the fluid.

It was... light. A soft blue color.

That's when he looked up and his step-father stared back, the pain that was in his torso slowly wilted away. That's all he could think before he was standing. His hair was messy, wild, his hat having fallen off during the scuffle. He could only imagine what the man thought when he stared at him.

He didn't realize just how much he changed in those moments. Teeth gritted, sharp and poised, as his fingers flexed like a hungry animal waiting to strike. Sharp light blue eyes met their reflection in the eyes of his step-father when suddenly he swung... claws taking hold of a hitched breath, squeezing dangerously against the man's neck. 

The wild gaze couldn't see past the panic behind the eyes that he had grown to fear. Ears flicked down to shut out the cries of the woman who had protected him all this time. He knew nothing but the idea of survival, not even noticing as antlers curled from his skull. A burdened seed had finally sprouted in an endless night. 

A cold feeling crept through him and he couldn't hold it back, feathers brushing against his skin and his spine aching down his back as spines grew out of his skin. Ice covered his face, creating a false skull to mask him. 

He couldn't control himself. He ripped through that man with no abandon, like a beast he tore him to shreds. There was nothing but blood and flesh when he was done, nothing of the man there once was. No abuse, no pain, no feeling at all. He will never hurt another soul, yet in the end, he could see his consciousness flow back for the waterfall of shame to shower him.

The guilt, the fear of what he become, it came crashing down upon him. He looks at the claws that adorned his fingers and a guttural scream rips through his throat. He throws his hands to his face and breaks the mask that forced itself on him, his eyes finding his mother. He must have looked like a rabid dog because she was shaking, looking a monster dead in his eyes.

He murdered his step-father, right in front of his mother. It hit him like a cinderblock and without another thought, he ran. Even through his dilapidated state, he flung himself out the backdoor and let his feet carry him away. There was nothing left to him. Not a single thing. 

He could never return to what he once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do tell me if there is anything I need to fix or add in the tags. This work is more when the inspiration comes but one day I will work on the main storyline for the universe.


End file.
